No Plans, No Kidding…..A letter from my wife.

“I was writing to Susan this morning and thinking about life and the different plans she has. I was struck that we cannot make many plans right now and there is beauty in this. Living in the here and now, in the moment is so real. I have always wanted to do this, like the songs says “live like you are dying” but this is not something you can do, it is a gift that comes through a life changing event. Trying to put into words, life is more real, more alive than ever before. Almost like a magnifying glass has been set before my eyes. The intensity of life, of the emotion, of seeing and living, and of being amazed is overwhelming. Maybe these are the gems given to those who face the depths of life. Like the pearl formed from oyster shell……trials if laid in the hands of the Lord produce something so raw, so rich, so deep words cannot completely express, yet those who have been here know exactly. Something we now are experiencing, as you mentioned before it is just this that I wouldn’t give up, if it takes seeing, living in my life now in full color, real, rich then I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Kathy Dancer March 1st, 2010

Giving up the lead role

I walk into the theater and it’s filled with many of you. In the back, sitting out of sight, is Elohim (God the father, son and Holy Spirit.) I say to Him “What are you doing here?” He says “shhh, I’m watching this movie.” I sit down and say to Him “What is it about?” Elohim gives me a strange look and says “It starts with this boy who is afraid to get up in front of a speech class in high school and give a speech so he takes an “F” in the class. Later, he becomes a Television News Anchor. Then, when that job starts to eat away at his life, his health and his soul he quits to run for state office. He loses that race but win’s the battle and finds a new life. “ What happens next, I ask. He says, “Just as things are starting to go well, the main character comes down with cancer.” My eyes widen and I look deep into Elohim’s eyes. This story is sounding very familiar. Is this a story about me? I ask. It used to be, he says.

Sit back and be quiet, He says to me, this is where the story starts to really come together. What happens I ask? Elohim smiles and says this is where the main character decides to take a supporting actor role and gives that staring role to me. What happens I ask again? Rick, he says to me, sit back and just enjoy the ride, you are going to love the way this all turns out.

Cancer Dancer Strikes Salem. (Click here for video)

The other day I was in Salem with some folks from an organization I work with called Full Access. Full Access provides services for folks with disabilities in our community. We were in Salem to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of closing “Fairview Training Center.” That’s just a nice word for an institution where we use to warehouse people with disabilities. It was a terrible place. Oregon just closed it’s last institution for the disabled back in October. We are one of the only states in the country that has no institutions but instead places people with disabilities in the community where they should be, like us. Anyway, we were so excited we decided to dance on the steps of Salem.

The Fathers Touch

Lying on the table, everything to gain, everything to lose, I wait. Is this simply a dream or will it really happen. I know not what I’m doing and I really don’t care. I don’t mean that in a bad way I mean that in an honest, real, raw sort of reality.

Cancer likes to rob us of our hope. It likes to whisper in our ears that we are different that we are sick that we are something other than human. Cancer would like us to believe that we are stuck, somehow deserving of this disease that scrambles our cells and causes miscommunication in our body.

Treatments are varied, options many, results and statistics written by those who perform and study such things and their answers leave a dead ringing in my ears. Their words begin to sound like the clamoring noise I hear about in the Bible. At first my mind grasps any number higher than 80% but now believes very little of what I read. Science is just that, guesswork, numbers, studies, biases and the result of human intervention.

Back on the table, in a small room, I lie helpless, vulnerable and open to God’s touch. One other person is in the room but he is simply a willing conduit for the father as he (the father) attempts to restore faith, hope and a sense of humanity over a body that feels damaged and unsalvageable.

Something happens in those few hours on that table. I can’t describe what. To be honest I don’t know. But the cells that were confused somehow found a way to talk with each other. God’s touch sank deep into my spirit and my soul restoring something that cancer had tried to take away.

I don’t know what this all means. I’m not sure what happens now. I do know that the search for answers, solutions and treatments continues but something has changed.

We say we believe that Jesus will take care of our every need but few of us get the chance to live that way. I’ve been placed in a spot where I have no choice or at least more opportunity to try. Lying on that table my father (God) and I communicated in a way we’ve never done before. Cancer is trying to destroy me but it’s actually leading me on a path few get the opportunity to travel. I guess I’ll just try to sit back and enjoy the ride; it’s much better than the alternatives.

A Double Header Blog. The Guy in the Elevator/(Click for video “Now What”)

Standing in the elevator at River Bend Hospital in Springfield, a man across from me stands staring into space. I ask him a few questions only to discover his wife is upstairs dying of cancer.

My first thought is I’d like to get the hell out of this elevator. I don’t want to stand here but then more questions erupt from my throat as my heart says move on and my head says bolt.

I was visiting a friend, a new friend I met the other day at the Urology Clinic. He’s about my age and found out just a few days after me, that he too has Prostate Cancer. Instantly we had a connection. He had his surgery the other day. I met him for coffee last week.

When I walked into his room last night we hugged as if we’d known each other all of our lives. We sat and talked for more than an hour.

Cancer is a killer. Cancer is scary. Cancer is a disease. Cancer is something, as you read these words, you are glad that you do not have. But what I’m discovering is Cancer is also a connector.

As I left the guy in the elevator I handed him my card. He’s not from Oregon and has no connections to this place. I gave him a hug and at first he resisted. I said, Hey, I want a real hug and I squeezed this tough guy as hard as I could.

I’m not sure who needed that hug the most but as he walked away I saw how much he loved his wife, how much he needed a connection and how much human interaction can do to fight cancer. I saw all those things in a tear that puddle in his eye as he walked the other way.

Cancer sucks. Cancer is terrible. Cancer is something I’ll trade any of you right now. I mean it. But cancer is also giving me something I can’t attach a word to so I will just leave it at that. I’ll tell you what, as soon as I can define it, I will.

Rick

Could Cancer Be My Ticket? (Click here for video)

Something is starting to happen in my life. Something is changing. I’ve gone from freaked out about having cancer to almost accepting it. Actually, it’s more than accept. I think I’ve come to trust God so much that I’m excited to see what he’s about to do. I hesitate to say that but hey, that’s where I’m at right now.

Watch this video.